Love?
by liian risera
Summary: All my entries for the Bleach Romances Fanfiction Contest, hosted by Full Shadow Alchemist. Genres vary from angst to fluff. BE WARNED: THERE WILL BE CRACK.
1. Idiot

**Sigh...I think this was a fail. But here ya go, Bleach Romance Fanfiction Contest Round 1. Hosted by Full Shadow Alchemist. **

**Genre: romance, humor, friendship, fluff  
Characters: Hanakari Jinta, Kurosaki Yuzu  
**

* * *

"You're an idiot!" Jinta yelled, pointing his broom accusingly at Kurosaki Ichigo. The sub-shinigami had come down to the shoten again to train with the boss.

"W-What!?" Ichigo spluttered at the sudden outburst. (he was on break right now, so there was no fear of getting distracted and trampled by a certain happy-go-lucky shop owner)

"I said, you're an idiot! Idiot!" the boy shouted, "Wanna know why? 'Cuz you're a self-centered bastard who...who....makes little girls cry!"

"The hell!? What the heck are you yelling about, shrimp?" the carrot-head protested indignantly.

"SEE!? You're so damn self-centered you don't even notice it when it happens!" Jinta nearly screamed, flailing the broom menacingly about, "Your own sister! And you don't even notice! ASSHOLE!"

"My...my sister?" Ichigo exclaimed. Karin never cried so... "You mean...Yuzu?"

"YES! YOU FREAKING MAKE HER CRY!" the boy roared, hoping a tirade of rage would help conceal his red face that had disobediently blushed at the mention of her name. "SHE'S WORRIED ABOUT YOU, YOU IGNORAMUS! YOU—"

"Ji~nta~! Please stop squealing at Kurosaki-san and get to work~! We have customers, you know~!"

Still glowering, Jinta threw the broom at Ichigo's head ("Ow! What the hell!?") before stomping out of the secret training room and into the back door of the shop. He stopped suddenly, just before entering.

Kurosaki Yuzu's reiatsu.

He nearly panicked. He couldn't appear in front of her red as his hair! Oh good lord, where was the ice!? Grabbing a pack, he buried his face in it, hoping his blush would cool down. No good. Dammit, why couldn't he be as cool as...as that Hitsugaya kid!?

"He-hello? Is anyone here?"

Oh crap, he was making her wait! The ice would have to wait then...crap. Putting aside the ice pack, he rushed into the shop.

"Gah! Miss Kurosaki! Will it be the—the usual a-again?" Oh god, was his face coloring again?

"Yes please!" the goddess exclaimed. Oh, her eyes were just so...perfect! "And also some extra meat. I'm making something special for Nii-chan today! I—Jinta-kun, is something wrong?"

"Uh?" Jinta wiped off the angry scowl that had formed on his face at the mention of Ichigo. "No, nothing. Er, anything else?"

"Nope. It's just...Nii-chan's gone away again... He said he'd be back tonight... I just hope he's safe...."

"Oh don't worry about him. He's gone away before, right?" Jinta sighed before adding under his breath: "Asshole doesn't deserve getting fretted over if he's—"

"Oof! It's heavy! Did you give me too much again, Jinta-ku—"

"NO! N-NOT AT ALL!" Jinta stammered, "Here, er, lemme help you carry these then, I-I don't have any other w-work," he lied when she began to protest, "I, I in-insist!"

"Oh, well, if you say so then, Jinta-kun!"

-----

"Jinta, where were you? Haven't I warned you enough times to not sneak off during work?" Tessai frowned at him, and rolled up his sleeves.

Oh crap.

-----

"Who's the idiot now?" Ichigo smirked.

_"It was worth it though,"_ Jinta thought. Nevertheless, he pretended to glare at him, nursing his "injuries". They didn't seem to hurt as much as they usually did. He poked his tongue out anyway, grinning innerly.

"Shut up, dickhead."


	2. Obstinacy

**Wow. I passed round 1? A miracle. Well, round two's fic is right here! Pairing is Ukitake/Kiyone. I nearly died trying to think of ideas for it...I've gone through three completely different versions and decided on this one mainly because I'll be too busy on the day it's actually due to do it. I just wrote the whole thing the day before XD**

**Genre: friendship, "romance", hurt/comfort  
Characters: Ukitake Jyuushiro, Kotetsu Kiyone  
**

* * *

He has seen friends and comrades pass on.

Too many of them clash with and fall under Death's blade.

Some say he might have gotten used to the losses by now.

But when Lieutenant Shiba Kaien died, Ukitake Juushiro felt overwhelmed.

Paperwork flooded him. With countless lieutenant applications and suggestions, letters that were supposedly comforting, all had to be read and responded to, filled out and filed away when all he wanted to do was close his eyes and never open them again. It was as if the world was hastily trying to replace Kaien, giving him no time, no time to rest or think or grieve.

But life needed to move on, and there was no time to waste.

Nearly all the lieutenants were not fit for the job. Too inexperienced for a promotion, not available for a transfer, not strong enough; none of them seemed to be what he was looking for. So he turned them all down.

Except one of them refused to accept the declination. (If he recalled correctly, he believed her name was Kotetsu. Kiyone Kotetsu.) She had repetitively called on his headquarters, brightly attempting to hold a conversation with him, and would insist on coming back again the next day even though he was sure he had made clear that she was not experienced enough to jump to vice-captaincy.

Apparently, not clear enough.

She would come into his office and jabber away at how she sincerely believed she was responsible enough to be a lieutenant or even a third-seated officer if he felt she wasn't. He _had_ seen her fighting skills, which were adequate, and her intelligence was quite high, but she was much too young to take on such a burden.

But then again, maybe that kind of stubbornness was actually a show of perseverance.

Maybe they needed someone young and sprightly as a role model, for a change. He himself had learned much from the newer generations, anyway.

Maybe…

Ukitake sat up straight, rubbing away the last bits of weariness from his eyes. Dipping his pen into the inkwell, he crossed out the "Vice-Captain" on Kiyone's form and wrote "Third Seat" above it before signing his approval at the bottom.

He had a feeling he wouldn't regret his decision.


	3. For Every End a Beginning

**BRFC round 3 entry!  
**

**Genre: Friendship, Angst, (romance?)  
Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo, Ishida Uryuu**

* * *

He would always remember.

He would always remember the Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo.

He would remember their supposed "rivalry". Eternal enemies, the Quincy and the Shinigami.

He remembered when the carrot-head would watch intently over his shoulder as he carefully stitched together cloths and lace and buttons.

When he would watch the archery club (from a good distance, as if he were hiding from something) as they nocked and aimed and fired.

When they grew stronger together, breached Hueco Mundo together, fought—not physically by each other's sides, but with their spirits, all the same.

Yes, he would always remember.

But would Ichigo?

---

They had returned to Karakura Town, to find that the battle had already been won by Soul Society. They returned—Inoue, Kuchiki, Sado, Kurosaki, and himself—dusty and weary and nearly broken, but relieved that it was over. They had expected to be welcomed, honored, recognized.

But as soon as they entered the other battlefield, they were suddenly brought to the all-too familiar black state of unconsciousness.

And when they came to, there was nothing.

He had felt something drop. Well...not drop exactly. It seemed like something that was always there—pushing down at him—was suddenly gone, but he couldn't figure out just what it was. It made him uneasy.

There was the classroom, just like it had been before it had all happened, his classmates seated at their desks, chatting away.

Just like they always did.

There was the teacher at the front of the room, gathering her materials (according to the clock behind her, class had just finished), there was Sado sitting in his corner, silently writing something down, there was Inoue talking animatedly with Chizuru—who was searching for a moment to catch her "Hime" off guard—and Tatsuki, who kept glaring at the bespectacled red-head, waiting for her to make her move so she could deal some moves only the second-strongest woman in Japan could execute.

And there, in his usual spot by the window, sat Kurosaki Ichigo.

He seemed even more moody than he usually was, gazing out the window as if he were waiting for someone. Ishida walked over.

"Kurosaki?"

Ichigo turned his head, scowling at the Quincy.

"What?"

"Do you remember what happened...after we left Hueco Mundo? To the other captains."

"The hell are you talking about?"

Ishida blinked rapidly and hastily pushed up his glasses. (He still marveled at Inoue's healing skill—she had revived his entire hand)

"You know, when we won! What happened after that?"

"Look, I don't know how you know my name, Glasses. I don't even know who you are. But if you need any help, my dad's a doctor. I don't know if you've gone crazy or something, but leave me alone, okay? And why aren't you wearing the school uniform?"

It hit him like a thunderbolt—the realization that Kurosaki's memories had been wiped clean, his reiatsu too, which was why the atmosphere had felt so abnormally light. Had Sado's been as well? And Inoue? Was that why they were not huddled in a group by Ichigo like they always were?

Uryuu didn't even want to find out. He dashed out the door (he heard a faint "Hey!" but ignored it, running down the stairs and out of the building, not even looking where he was going. His feet seemed to move of their own accord, auto-piloting him outside. His surroundings were nothing but a blur as his thoughts flurried by.

_How?_

The Memory Chikan, of course. It must have been of a very strong variety, to wipe out even Kurosaki Ichigo's memories.

_When?_

After they exited the portal? Before? When they entered Soul Society? It didn't seem to matter.

_Why?_

He halted abruptly, vaguely aware of his white shawl floating around him from the sudden stop and his chest thumping madly inside him.

Why?

Why?

_Why?_

Why had their memories been wiped? Why hadn't they done it do him? And their reiatsu! Why had they erased the power of their allies? Was it to prevent any more intruders? Was it because Kurosaki was too powerful? Why had they left him with his Quincy powers still in tact? Was it sympathy? Because he was the last Quincy?

"_Why!?_" Ishida found himself yelling out loud. His voice sounded weak, hoarse. It seemed like a joke; his usual composed self, screaming at the heavens, and the gods that he knew were there somewhere, who had decided that it was better to push them out of their lives.

A terrible, terrible joke that couldn't be undone.

"Hey."

He didn't need to look to see who it was.

"You forgot your stuff in the classroom."

Ishida turned and forced a smile at his tall classmate, his nakama. Or was it former nakama, now that his memories were gone? He accepted his things with a muttered "thanks" and began to walk home.

"Hey!"

"What?" he asked irritably. Couldn't he be left in peace?

Kurosaki grunted in a very Kurosaki-like fashion. "Look, sorry if whatever I said back there offended you, okay? I just feel weird today."

Uryuu allowed a small smile. "It's fine. Not your fault."

"Yeah, well."

"See you in class tomorrow."

"Huh."

Uryuu started home again, but was interrupted once more.

"Wait..."

"Yes?"

"What...what _is _your name?"

"Ishida. Ishida Uryuu."

"Yeah. See you in class then, Uryuu."

They parted ways, the Quincy one, the ex-shinigami the other. But despite being burdened with a secret, Ishida Uryuu couldn't help but feel that perhaps with one story's end there began another.


	4. Stand In The Rain

**BRFC round 4 entry.**

**Genre: Romance, hurt/comfort, slight humor  
Characters: Inoue Orihime, Kuchiki Byakuya  
Song: Stand In The Rain by Superchic[k]. **

**After you've read this fic, LISTEN TO THE SONG. Lyrics (chorus) in italics, have been edited slightly to fit the fic. Don't listen to it as you're reading because it wouldn't fit with the light-hearted bits. I think the lyrics suit Orihime.  
**

**

* * *

**

_Stand in the rain__  
Stand your ground  
Stand up when it's all crashing down  
_

Kuchiki Byakuya had promised himself, on the night that Hisana died, that he would never again love a woman the way he had loved her.

By no means did that stop the rest of the Kuchikis from throwing arranged marriage plans at him, or the ladies from planting themselves in a place where he was bound to notice them, or the Elders from bringing nobles' daughters to attempt to eventually find one that would suit to his tastes, but even if (and he had resigned himself to add a "when" as well—the Elders liked to remind him that it was his duty to produce an heir) they forced a marriage on him, there was no way he would love her.

But then there came Orihime, from the Inoue family.

The moment she walked in through the gates with her escorts, he knew something was amiss. She did not glide with a frozen expression of cool indifference on her face, like the other stiff-necked princesses. She did not even walk. No, Inoue Orihime _skipped _right through the entrance of the Kuchiki palace, smiling and laughing like some—like a..._commoner_.

Their conversation was even stranger. Even when he pretended to be uninteresting _and _uninterested, she always managed to make some odd comment completely irrelevant to the subject and he would be forced to continue with the new topic, however awkward it may be. But it was to be expected—after all, she _was _an Inoue.

After the umpteenth silence in their dialogue, she broke the quiet.

"You really miss her, don't you?"

He looked up, startled. He saw that her cheery smile was gone, replaced by one heavy with...pity? Regret?

"You shouldn't hide it. Won't that make it even worse?"

"How would you know?" he asked.

"My brother," she replied quietly, "Inoue Sora, he—"

"Then isn't that what you're doing?" Byakuya interjected, "Why are you hiding behind smiles? How long have you been under that mask?" his voice was raised slightly, indignant. "What right do you have, to tell me not to do what you yourself are doing? You...you're—"

"I know."

He looked at her again, almost shaking with anger. He was surprised to see that she was the mirror image of his calm collected self. She stared at him straight in the eye.

"I know. I'm no better than you are. I've been running away. I've been hiding behind fake smiles and pretty dresses for nearly my whole life, since the night he died and I don't want to do it anymore. But I..." her voice faltered at this point, "I can't face it...I'm scared to even start...everything..the only way out is th-through everything I'm trying to hide from..and I thought...that maybe, if-if I did it with someone else, if there was someone by my side, m-maybe I would be able to stand my ground...but it's a selfish reason..." She stopped and looked down quickly, composing herself. "I'm sorry, Kuchiki-san. It's our first meeting, I've spoken too much."

"No. It wasn't too much," Byakuya murmured. "And...I wouldn't mind..having someone by my side...I wouldn't mind if we faced it..."

She smiled faintly. "Together."

After all, who said that you had to stand by yourself?

_If you stand through the pain  
__You won't drown__  
And one day what's lost can be found  
We'll stand in the rain  
_


	5. Matchmaker

**BRFC round 5 entry! Pairing is UraShinji. Mmm, though I am a hardcore UraYoru shipper and a casual supporter of ShinjiHiyori, which might be why I put those two in here as well.  
**

**Genre: friendship, "romance", humor  
Characters: Kisuke Urahara, Shinji Hirako, Yoruichi Shihouin, Hiyori Sarugaki  
**

* * *

"Shinji Hirako."

"What?"

"You are a dead man."

"..."

Of all the people Shinji would have liked to have a "heart-to-heart chat" with, Shihouin Yoruichi was probably near the bottom on that list. In fact, he would have preferred even _Aizen _over the deadly woman (for, despite her usually pleasant demeanor, she was quite a beast when even slightly angered), and there was indeed a very good reason why she was once a captain, and of the Second Division at that. He shifted nervously.

"I notice," she said softly, and a rather unpleasant mental image of a cat stalking a cornered mouse entered Shinji's mind, "that lately, you've been mooning a lot after Kisuke."

"W-WHAT!?" Shinji scrabbled frantically. It wasn't _mooning_...of _course _not! It was just...well, since the Winter War had ended and there was nothing left, what else could he do? Visiting the Shoten was honestly the most interesting thing in his life now. Even if Ururu stared at him funny and Jinta glared and swore at him when Tessai wasn't looking. The Vizards had dispersed, dissolved, and they...or _most _of them had moved, to continue their lives elsewhere. So the little shop had become his temporary home, more or less.

He had been helping out with chores too, assisting Urahara in whatever crazy experiments he was cooking up. In no way was he _interested _in him, oh heck _no_.

"Don't think," she continued smoothly, "that you can hide it, Hirako. I don't give a crap if you were a captain longer than I was, I will not hesitate in kicking your sorry ass if you hurt him, you hear me?"

He nodded dumbly and, seeing that she had finished her threa--er, lecture, speed-walked out of the room.

--

"Ahh~ Hiyori! Good to see you again...WHA--"

It was the signature sandal-slap that cut him off.

"Quit jokin' around!" Hiyori snapped, waving her shoe threateningly. "I been here two whole weeks, and you've been so darned STUPID! Even more than before!"

Kisuke scratched his head curiously. "Stupid..?" he asked meekly, so as not to attract another strike.

His efforts were in vain.

"STUPID."

_thwok!_

"ow..."_  
_

"I'VE GOT AN IDEA, BALDY. HOW 'BOUT YOU START _PAYING ATTENTION_ TO THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU, FOOL?"

Hiyori slapped his face around a few more times (for good measure) and purposefully marched out of the room, suavely replacing the shoe back on her foot as she did so. Once she was out of his earshot she darted over to where she could sense Yoruichi Shihouin's reiatsu.

"Well?" Yoruichi smirked deviously, "how'd it go?"

"Like crap," Hiyori retorted, "Utter crap. Just like him."

Yoruichi nodded understandingly. "Yeah, well, sometimes there's people out there so stupid you can't beat sense into them. He's a lost cause, I tell you."

The blond in pigtails shook her head, then stared into the distance for a moment. A grin spread across her face, revealing the fang on the left side of her mouth.

"Hey...I think I got a new idea...here, listen."

Shinji watched the two friends talking and decided that whatever it was they were planning, it was probably shady and questionable. And it probably involved them trying to get Shinji and Kisuke "together".

What a sick pastime...honestly, he pitied them.

Maybe he should tell Urahara to block the site called "fanfiction" from their wireless computer network.


	6. Learning To Love Again

**BRFC round 6 entry, AU to the extreme... I've twisted the rules a little bit though...(don't tell anyone) It was supposed to be YoruNel this round, but I put more of an emphasis around UraYoru, NOT as a pairing but rather as a very strong bond (just so it's not TOO out-of-bounds). If anyone was expecting a nosebleed-spurting yuri fic, too bad. I don't do those. Ha.  
**

**Genre: family, friendship, angst, hurt/comfort  
Characters: Urahara Kisuke, Shihouin Yoruichi, Neliel tu Oderschvank

* * *

**

Once upon a time, there was a little black cat and a young man. Together they lived in a small shop, which the man also ran and earned a modest amount for them from. The cat (who knew her old friend since, well, _forever_) knew of their little store as home. A place of comfort—of dishes of milk and cream, warm hands stroking through her fur and scratching below her chin, low soothing voices, and the occasional fish or two. It was love. Yes, love. She loved the man—he was not a master or an owner, but a friend. And so the days, as uneventful as they were, were bearable.

One day, while the cat was basking in their home on the sun-flooded squares below windows, a rumble of instinct welled up in her furry chest. Her ears flattened against her skull, her gold-yellow eyes narrowed, and a low growl escaped her small body. The growl exploded into an angry hiss as two heavy men burst through the shop door, breaking the quiet with their loud, slurred shouts. The cat yowled a warning to her friend, alerting him to the unwelcome newcomers, and leapt to her feet, needle-sharp claws slipping out of their sheaths and the fur on her spine standing on end.

The shop owner ran into the room and, seeing his visitors, cried out in frustration and grabbed a broom to defend himself as they closed in on him. At this, the cat suddenly became a black ball of fur—hissing and spitting as claws swiped across the intruders' faces, angry red welts springing from their tracks. One of the men swatted at her with a thick, burly arm as the other threw a fist into the shopkeeper's gut and proceeded to pound and kick him repeatedly as he fell to the ground, groaning and yelling hoarsely. The former continued to beat the cat, leering as he grabbed her by the nape of her neck and threw her hard against a wall.

Finding herself unable to move and her sense of balance thrown askew, she watched helplessly through blurring eyes as her assailant moved away to smash the shop's delicate wares against the ground. Furniture tumbled over, cloths tore and ripped, vases and glasses shattered as the invaders ransacked their store, their home. Head pounding, she sank into merciful nothingness.

--

When she came to, her head still throbbing like no tomorrow, she blinked the fuzzy black spots away from her vision and she twisted her head stiffly to survey the ruins that were the remnants of their shop. To her left, the store owner lay on the ground amidst several pieces of broken pottery and shreds of fabric. She slipped over to his side, trying and failing to walk gracefully like a cat should and painfully laid her head on his shoulder. She sat there, occasionally nudging the still, cold face of her old friend with her nose, but never received a response in return.

After what seemed like hours later, she limped out of the house, alone, feeling strangely hollow inside.

----

"Git, you little devil—!"

A door slammed as a lean cat was hurled into the streets, back arching and tail swishing indignantly at the woman who had discovered it lurking through the shadows of her house and kicked it out immediately.

The cat, thin from living off of thievery and street rats, had unkempt and scruffy black fur, the dirty hairs concealing several scars received from other alley cats. Years of city life—of loud cars and blinding lights and children throwing rocks at her—had frozen her eyes from a lazy, sunny gold into a cold yellow and stripped her of most of her body fat, leaving only a muscular frame behind. But she was strong—tough from the battles she won; wise from the ones she lost.

She stalked over to an alley; territory she had paid dearly for the ownership of. If a cat could smirk, she would have done so (for the house she had crept into was no poor man's, judging by the food she had stolen).

She felt a tug on her tail.

Whirling around, baring her teeth in a snarl and unsheathing her claws, the cat turned to glare at a little girl. She was short, though still towering over the feline, and stared down at the cat with large, green-yellow eyes, peaking through locks of light-colored hair. Her face and simple green clothing was dirty and smudged, as if she had been playing on the streets.

The girl was also holding a tail—_her_ tail, the cat noted with irritation.

"Are you alone?"

It was such a simple question, and yet it had been so long since the cat had heard a friendly human's voice that it startled her. Fur flattened again, and claws returned to their sheaths.

"I am too," the girl continued, "and I'm not sure I know what it's like to be lonely, though sometimes I think I might be. I don't really remember anything else. Do you have a name?"

The cat paused. A lifetime ago, she had had a name. But that cat no longer existed, as far as she knew. So she gave no response, as there were none to give.

"That's okay," the girl with the green eyes smiled, "I don't remember mine either. And names aren't important anyway, as long as _we_ know who _we_ are inside, that's all that matters. That's what I think."

_An excellent point, _the cat thought.

The girl sat on a box and stared out of the alley into the busy street. "I want to leave this place," she said quietly. "It's too loud. Too messy. But I don't know where to go. It doesn't matter, I guess. Do you want to come with me?"

She got up again and looked down at the cat, who considered her offer carefully and, after a moment of thought, got up on all fours. She followed the girl out of the alley as they began a journey out of the smoggy city both had scraped a meager living out of for the past few years. After all, there was nothing to lose at this point, right?

Besides, maybe she would learn how to love again.


	7. Arrancar Encyclopedia

**BRFC round 7 entry.  
**

**Genre: Humor, friendship, little bit of hurt/comfort/maybe angst  
Characters: Ichimaru Gin, Coyote Starrk, Lilynette Gingerback, Grimmjow Jeagerjacques (for the lulz)**

**WARNING: Spoilers for manga chapter 374, I believe.  
**

**

* * *

**

"Welcome to Arrancar Encyclopedia," Ichimaru Gin spoke, smiling as he tapped his hand with the metal pointer. "Today's subject is th' concept of 'split-body, same-soul entities'! Now, we—" He stopped mid-sentence, the grin wiped off his face in confusion. He turned to look down at a body sprawled in the sand. "Hm? Where is everyone, Grimmjow-kun?"

Grimmjow—his chest still covered in wounds from a million chapters ago—glared up at the shinigami through the bright blue hair that had fallen over his face. "They all went to fight Soul Society, if you were paying attention to the past few—I dunno, _hundred _episodes?" He blew his hair out of his face in irritation, only for it to flop back down. "I swear, I never get any screen time! When's that Kubo guy gonna get back to me!? If I don't come in next episode, I'm gonna—"

"Anyway," Gin turned back to the "main audience", ignoring Grimmjow's mutterings of "screen time" and "that blasted shinigami boy". "Th' concept o' these entities sounds like a hard one ta grasp, but it ain't that complicated."

He pointed at the board behind him, where an image of Coyote Starrk and Lilynette Gingerback popped up. Starrk was, as usual, sleeping his life away and Lilynette was brooding in a corner (probably thinking of a new way to wake him up).

"We only have one example ta show ya, since it looks like ya have ta be pretty darn strong ta pull it off. Ya see," he tapped the board and the image switched to a video of a silhouette surrounded by a mound of motionless hollows. "When ya split yerself in half, ya gotta half 'nough power ta keep the average amount o' reiatsu in each half 'n order ta keep yerself alive. So basically," the video zoomed into the silhouette, which split in two Starrk- and Lilynette-shaped shadows. "Both o' yer new halves have ta more-or-less equal a normal hollow. Like so..." The video appeared to light up, so the image of the Primera and his fraccion was no longer a silhouette. Both arrancar seemed to glow, emitting pulses of reiatsu. "Tada! See? Also," the board switched again to show Starrk and Lilynette's resurreccion. "When one o' these guys release their zanpakuto, and both bodies gotta be t'gether when it happens, they join back t' one body."

Gin frowned, cocking his head to the side and tapping his foot absent-mindedly. "Hm... Y'know, usually at this point o' the show, our guest'd pop in ta say 'hello' or somethin'," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Meanwhile, Yammi's hollow-puppy, who had been biding its time, pounced onto Grimmjow's head, yipping and wagging its tail as Grimmjow expressed his mortification through muffled yells. "Ah... I wonder what's up?"

A backstage arrancar decided to help him out, jogging onstage and whispering into his ear. Gin's eyes almost (almost) opened in surprise and nodded as the arrancar jogged backstage.

"It seems like our guests can't make it t'day," he forced a grin as the screen changed to show Starrk falling, blood streaming from a gash in his chest. He tapped the board and it went blank. He turned to no one in particular and sighed softly, as if to himself. "Ahh, pity..."


End file.
